Ever Going Hostilities
by DistilledAria
Summary: Preventing wars, hosting diplomacy, caught between two rival nations, what's a girl to do? YouxVarious
1. PrussiaSwitzerland: Undisclosed Deals

_Yay, another two person story! I just find it easier to write with two people. I wanted to try to get a chapter out before I leave for a week-long trip, but I promise there is more! On the ten hour car drives, I should get a lot of writing done -_-_

_And, this is sort of a follow up to "A Very Merry Hetalia Valentine's Day", by me, Ocea-Chan. I recommend reading that first._

_Hetalia does not belong to me!_

**…**

"Let's go over this again."

You walked up a gray slate path with the curt blonde at your side. A light drizzle of rain made the surroundings have a sheen; the old-fashioned lanterns providing dim lighting in the cloudy region.

"We are to officially abolish the treaty giving Prussia the ownership of eastern Neuchatel, through _diplomatic _means," you explained.

Switzerland nodded briefly, holding his forest green coat above his head. Why were you here in Germany, resolving an old issue between the Alpine nation and former empire? It started with a call from Austria…

**QUICK FLASHBACK TIME **

You sat in your living room, about ready to divulge yourself in a whole season of, _"History and Culture of Europe". _After weeks of waiting, you would finally understand your friends, even being able to talk about the good old days as if you were there. No more cluelessness and faux pas, like giving Greece a thumbs up. All of the grief over if you offended someone would be gone! You had taken a month off of your duties (giving your boss a plausible research excuse) just so you could study the other countries.

Practically jumping with anticipation, you slipped the first disk in the DvD player. You leaped on the couch, nestling into it. An overhead view of green pastures then transitioning blue-green water appeared on the screen.

"_Welcome to the lively continent of Europe," _announced a deep male's voice.

You squealed. How you managed to get so worked up over a history program was a mystery.

"_This episode we will be learning about the once great Ottoman Empire, today known as the Republic of Turkey."_

"_We will start off with the unusual courtship terms of the Turks,"_

A loud ring of the phone interrupted your trance. You groaned and paused the video.

"What?" you barked.

"Thank goodness, (name)-"

Angry yelling was heard in the background.

"I'll kill him! I swear!" it exclaimed.

"Calm down," the first voice strained.

"Is everything okay over there, Austria?"

You leaned into the phone more, worried.

"Ugh no, Switzerland is-don't hurt the piano!-a bit aggravated."

"About what?"

"Well, the albino idiot has apparently kept a part of a Swiss canon, and has started to try and "rebuild the empire" by breaking into residents' homes, "converting" the poor people to be Prussian. You really don't want to hear the details of how he does that.

"Switzerland came here to Germany's house looking for him, but he's out in Germany's other home."

"Um, okay…why call me?"

"Er, Germany or I don't have any affect in trying to calm the Swiss, but Hungary mentioned to me that he's rather…_fond _of you. I need you to resolve this matter civilly. As much as I dislike the white haired buffoon, I don't want to see him with a thousand bullet holes in his chest."

You in took a breath and glanced back to the television screen. But-_History and Culture of Europe~_

"Please," he sounded desperate.

"You're the only one who can do anything. I wouldn't be bothering you otherwise."

You sighed.

"Keep him restrained. I'm on my way."

…

So here you were, with a more than usually peeved Switzerland, standing in front of a rustic looking porch. The responsibility of preventing countries from tearing out each other's throats once again boiled down to you.

You looked towards Switzerland. His bright green eyes shot a brief return.

"What?"

"No guns."

"But-"

"No. We came to _talk_."

He grudgingly unstrapped the rifle from his back, then pulled a shotgun from under his coat.

"Good, n-"

He held up a gloved finger and pulled out two pistols from each boot, then an ammo pack concealed under his beret. You raised your eyebrows.

"Is that all?"

He coughed and angled away from you. You craned your neck to see him remove a revolver from his pants. A pit of worry settled in your stomach. Either Switzerland _truly _loved guns, or he was paranoid. He nodded, signaling he was ready.

You knocked on the black door. Only the light pattering of rain could be heard. You bit your lip, wishing Prussia to hurry up. This time he _had_ to be dressed. Switzerland was not a patient man, plus he was even more miffed today. You counted on your presence calming him.

He shifted his weight to one foot, furrowing his brows.

"What is taking him so long?"

"I'm sure he's just finishing up something," you said beseechingly.

"Hm, then while we're waiting, there's something I'd like to discuss."

"Yes?" you tried to sound confident.

Being around Switzerland recently had made you uncannily nervous. You had to relax, to reassure him. He clasped his hands behind his back, appearing business- like.

"I have been thinking of an alliance."

You tweaked an eyebrow. Any talk of a partner with the neutral nation was rare.

"That's great, Switzerland. With who?"

Something caught at the end of your voice. His eyes scanned your reaction.

"With you."

You stared dumbly, pondering a response.

"But a particular level of alliance," he continued.

"Most like Austria-Hungary. A sort of…unification. It would greatly benefit us, both in economic and military concerns."

Your eyes widened at a certain term. Switzerland's economy was one of the best, and it wasn't like he was going to war anytime soon. This idea was a bit random.

"Are you…suggesting marriage?"

You swear you could hear Liechtenstein giggling.

"Er, it depends on how you would view it. Yes, Austria and Hungary did get married, but-"

He faltered. His eyes met yours with a sanguine[1] gleam.

"I, um, uh-"

The door flew open.

"Prussia!" you exclaimed, thanking the heavens for him getting you out of this conversation.

He smirked at the sight of you, but that changed when he noticed Switzerland.

"Uh, hey Swissy-"

He was cut off by a snarl and a hard poke to the chest.

"You conniving, insolent, husk of a country!"

Switzerland started to spit out more insults. You quickly reached to his wrist.

"_Talk," _you whispered.

He shut his eyes and brought back his hand.

"Prussia, I am here to…"

A sour look came across his face.

"_Talk _with you about an issue involving Neuchatel. It seems your ownership of it was never officially invalidated, and you have started some ridiculous, futile,"

You coughed.

"Ah, yeah,"

Prussia scratched the back of his neck.

"I was meaning to bring that up…er, come in."

…

Switzerland shook his head in disbelief.

"You're saying it wasn't you who did all this? Who else would try to revive Prussia?"

"Hey, I was an awesomely respectable nation."

You examined the withering document on the table.

"Whoever did this must've been close to you, Prussia. Even Switzerland didn't realize this loophole. Their motives are…questionable, though."

He pouted at your last statement.

"Even if you two don't think I'm that big of a deal, I've been looking into this. All of the angry Swissys coming to Germany's house has really started to annoy West. _He _didn't believe me, either."

You rubbed your hands together. Mysteries weren't a very common occurrence between nations. If someone wanted to vex someone else, they did it directly. Most of them weren't that smart anyways.

"Are you _sure _you aren't lying to us?" Switzerland said dryly.

"Yes!"

"I believe you, Prussia," you said.

He stuck out his tongue at the Alpine nation.

"But there isn't any other obvious suspects than you."

"Sounds like I have a secret admirer~"

"Who is going to get their head blown off," Switzerland muttered.

You took a moment to appreciate his protectiveness over his people. Everything would try to be put in a positive light today.

"There's only one way to find out," you said, your mouth turning up in an intrigued grin.

They groaned simultaneously.

"We're going to investigate!"

…

You walked between the two men, more determined. There was a lack of good clues and legitimate equipment to investigate, but that couldn't stop you! The two nations could clearly care less walking around and "investigating" dirty graffiti. You, though, felt like you were in one of England's Sherlock Holmes novels.

You took a look at your convenient notepad, stroking your chin intently.

"The culprit recently came by this shop, attempting to convert a Swiss woman to a Prussian using, er, _interesting _methods," you said, sounding professional.

Prussia perked up.

"Let me see that notepad!"

He reached over your shoulder. You dodged his hand.

"No, it's mine!"

"Let me see!"

"No-ack!"

Switzerland pushed you apart.

"If you're both done acting like children, we could actually find out something."

You nodded and pushed the door open. A bell dinged, causing a short woman to hop up behind a counter. She appeared in her early forties, her blonde hair tucked into a neat bun. At the sight of the two young men, she raised her eyebrows.

You opened your mouth, but was stopped by Prussia.

"I've got this," he said slyly.

He walked up to the counter and leaned on it, putting on a wolfish smile. The older woman clutched a hand near her ruffled shirt. Switzerland rolled his eyes.

"May I help you?" she asked, timidly accented.

"Oh, you can help me in more ways than one, sweetheart," he purred.

A slight pink rose to the woman's cheeks.

"But before that, I need some information."

He took a finger under the woman's jaw and traced it. You shifted uncomfortably on your feet. Watching Prussia go after a tastefully dressed older woman…you felt bad for her benefit. You assumed it wasn't completely out of character for him.

"Could you do that for me, hmm?"

The woman shakily raised a hand. Your eyes widened, outstretching your arm, afraid things were getting _too _steamy. Instead, the woman slapped him across the face. He recoiled.

"Ow! What the hell?"

"Get out of my shop, you prostitute!"

Prussia's mouth fell open. You stifled a laugh. Switzerland took this as an opportune time to step in.

"I'm very sorry, mam. This idiot doesn't have any idea what he's doing."

The woman glared at Prussia. Switzerland shot a look to you. You nodded, understanding.

"I'll get him out of here, don't worry."

You tugged the still open mouthed Prussia outside. You stepped near a secluded alleyway entrance. He crossed his arms and sulked.

"I don't believe that woman! Who could resist the awesome _Prussia_?"

You looked away tiredly.

"Maybe you're not as hot as you think."

A knowing grin overcame his face.

"A certain state of you disagrees…"

You gave him a suspicious gaze.

"Well, _seducing _someone doesn't always work. She probably would've given us the information if you had just asked."

"Oh, but it's so much more fun this way."

Before you could respond, you felt an arm snake around your back and pull you closer to him. Another hand brushed the nape of your neck. You desperately kept the bitter expression on, but couldn't resist the goose bumps forming from his cold touch.

"You know you like it (name)," he whispered huskily in your ear.

You squirmed against him, your arms keeping you from fully being pressed on him.

Sadly, you weren't unfamiliar with _certain_ countries' advances, so you knew how to put most off. But that was with people like France, not someone actually attractive like Prussia. You clenched your teeth. Damn him!

"No, I really don't."

You flattened your hands against his chest. Heat started to rise to your cheeks as you noticed how toned it was. His laugh rumbled under your hands.

"I-agh-"

"_Shh_,"

The side of his lips brushed against your cheek. You squeezed your eyes shut. How much more of this before-

An exiting bell rang.

This time, you shoved Prussia away with ease. He slammed into the wall. You turned around quickly, covering your scorching face with your sleeve.

"Uhm, let's g-go ask some others."

You stomped off. Switzerland raised an eyebrow.

_What did you do? _He mouthed.

Prussia smiled, taking off after you.

…

You rested at the edge of a fountain, the coolness of the cloudy afternoon slightly making you drowsy. Before you could go to sleep, you had to figure this out.

"So, what did you find out?"

Switzerland settled next to you.

"She tried to describe the assailant, but her encounter was brief. She recalled a person, most likely male, of medium height and build, and shoulder length hair."

The corner of your mouth upturned.

"Sounds like Poland. Is there a relationship you'd like to tell us about, Prussia?"

He grimaced.

"That was _one _time! And he totally looked like a girl from behind!"

You covered your mouth for a yawn.

"Mmm, so what to do now?"

"We could ask around some more."

"Ugh, no," Prussia whined.

"Let's take a break, or, _please,_ let me go home."

You shook a finger.

"Uh, uh, you're not going home until we've caught the culprit."

"You just want to keep me around, (name)."

You pressed your lips together. Thankfully, Switzerland was gazing idly around and missed the comment. You followed where he was looking and smiled.

"Let's get something to eat. That place looks like some sort event is going on, we could investigate while we have dinner."

Prussia frowned, but agreed. You wouldn't have said it to his face, but he looked kind of cute when he was unhappy. He had a tendency to persistently whine when he was like that, so you didn't get much chance to relish in that thought.

…

You were seated at a candle lit table near a fenced in border, overlooking the town center. It was the only building that didn't look barren; it was almost packed to the brim. You sat between Prussia and Switzerland at the end of the circular table, sipping your water.

"This is totally un-awesome! They don't have _any _good sausages!" Prussia complained.

"That's because we're in _Switzerland_ now. We're not obsessed with the greasy meats like you are," the other nation said.

Prussia rolled his eyes. You picked up your menu, then furrowed your brows.

"I can't understand one word on this," you murmured.

Switzerland leaned over, slightly brushing your shoulder. He pointed to an item.

"That's Raclette, it's a dish of potatoes with hot cheese dribbled over it."

He continued to describe each dish in perfect fluency. You really did admire Switzerland. It was a country with all sorts of foreign influences, yet it still kept a style all its own. You spent the time watching his lips pronounce the words flawlessly, instead of listening to the menu.

"So what will you have, (name)?" he asked.

"Mmm."

"Um, (name)?"

Your eyes snapped open to meet his.

"Uh, whatever you're having!"

You made up, smiling phonily.

"You're having the chnopfli?"

"Um, yes!" you said, faking enthusiasm.

He shrugged and ordered. Then came your steaming bowl of chnopfli. Your forced smile turned down. A sour egg smell wafted into your nose. The plate laid in front of you had small, round yellow noodles covered in cheese grating, with fried mushrooms and onions on top. Switzerland grinned a little and dug in. Prussia was completely immersed in his beer sausage meal. The Swiss pointed his fork toward your dish.

"Are you going to have it?"

"Er, yes, just waiting for it to cool off."

You eyed it, wary under Switzerland's scrutiny. Bracingly, you shoved a forkful in your mouth. A fermented, milky noodle taste rolled around on your tongue. Putting it lightly, it was horrible. You pushed down your gag reflex.

Switzerland beckoned his head, asking for your opinion.

"Mmm," you said, but it came out sounding like a whimper.

Prussia coughed, straining a laugh. You weren't expecting such a bitter, unpleasant dish in Switzerland! The country was famous for his phenomenal cheese and chocolate. Times you had eaten his food it was delicious, even comparable to France's or Italy's.

You gripped your water and washed down the taste. As Switzerland was talking to a random acquaintance, you felt a poke under the table. Prussia was looking at your paling face, sneering.

"Like the chnopfli, (name)?"

You sighed.

"Your sausages don't seem that bad compared to _this_."

"That's what she said."

You sent a glare his way, then returned to poking the noodles with your fork. Another poke on your leg.

"_What_?"

"Look under the table."

"I'm not sure about that…"

"Oh, c'mon, I wouldn't do that in _Switzerland_. Just look."

You apprehensively scooted back and peered under the tablecloth. A small bowl of strawberries with white chocolate drizzled on it sat by your feet. You raised your eyebrows.

"Wha-how…?"

"I noticed you were too busy checking out Swissy to listen, so I took that guy's appetizer."

"Prussia!"

"He wasn't going to eat it~"

You looked over to Switzerland, who was still chatting, then quietly picked up the bowl. The second you put the sweet strawberry in your mouth, you savored it. Compared to the…_whatever_ it was called, was like having a sweet for the first time after a diet of sour tofu. Prussia scooted your noodle dish over and started to eat. You frowned, unsure what to think of the snarky nation's kindness. It made you feel confused, yet…cared for.

"Thank you, Prussia. I, er, it was very thoughtful of you."

He grinned, not his usual smirk. It was a soft, nice smile.

"Keep that behavior up and I might start to like you," you teased.

Switzerland tapped your hand.

"(name), look."

He pointed to a man, his face covered by a mask and…a black Prussian eagle pin on his jacket.

"Is it…him?" you breathed.

The man glanced around nervously, fiddling with his gloves. He stayed distant from the crowd.

"Who else would wear that?"

Prussia narrowed his eyes at the blonde.

"What are we supposed to do?" you asked.

"We can't just go up and confront him, we have to make sure it's him."

"How could we get information out of him? I want to know why this fool has been doing this," Switzerland hissed.

You both sat in silence, the sound of clinking silver wear drowning out your thoughts.

"I might have a few ideas."

Prussia extended a finger.

"If he's a _true _Prussian."

…

You hunched over by the two nations in the open corridor, an earshot away from the perp.

"Pull down your shirt a little more," Prussia instructed.

"I think it's down far enough," Switzerland growled.

You rubbed a hand across your heating face, knowing the two men were looking you over. Already, you had to strip off your coat and gloves, leaving you shivering in your thin under-uniform shirt. You _had _to dress like a professional advisor today, but Prussia insisted you undo the top three buttons of your blouse.

"I-I don't think I can do this," you said.

"Aw, you'd be the _best _at it. Just do what I do."

You grimaced. Acting remotely close to Prussia was one of your biggest worries, but thinking back to your experience with Switzerland, maybe you _were _capable of seducing people. You inhaled and squared your shoulders.

"Alright, but if things start to get…_intense_, please step in."

Switzerland clasped his hands together.

"_Go!_" Prussia shoved you.

You stumbled, your shoes clicking against the tiles. The man slowly turned around. You cleared your throat.

"_Hey_," you said, leaning against a wall, arms crossed. God, you felt stupid.

"Um, hello," his green eyes shifted away from you.

He didn't exactly strike you as the type to carry out the unmentionable deeds.

"So, quite a crowd, huh?"

You tried striking up a conversation. He nodded, still avoiding you.

"You from Switzerland?"

He shook his head. Dang, this was going to be difficult.

"Um, where are you from then?"

He met your eyes. There was something familiar about him, but you couldn't see his full face behind the mask.

"I don't think I should tell you…"

"Why not?" you challenged, becoming impatient.

Prussia coughed loudly.

"I mean, I find foreign men very attractive~"

You traced a finger up his black coat.

"I, u-um, you shouldn't-" his voice was flustered.

You drew closer, licking your lips. This was _humiliating._

"_Please? _Then you can ask _me _for something."

He bit his lip.

"N-no, you don't- "

"(name)!" Switzerland yelled.

You spun around. Two new figures encompassed Switzerland and Prussia. Panic instantly flooded your stomach. You balled your fists, ready to pounce.

"Hold on-I'm-"

You were stopped by a hard pain to the back of your head. You fell to your knees, the impact shaking you. Jaw set, you started to get back up. They wouldn't hurt your friends! Another blow hit you in the head.

"(name)!"

Everything went black.

…

"Ungh."

Your head throbbed painfully, and you were laying on a cold floor. You tried to prop yourself up, but your wrists were bound, leaving you sprawled out. Then you realized what happened. You shot up, straining to see in the dark room.

"Swissy? Prussia?"

You could hear him grumble from the nickname.

"We're here, (name)."

"This is so un-awesome! How could they kidnap me?"

You scooted closer to the Alpine's voice. Eventually, you could partly make out his face, a scowl planted firmly on it.

"W-what happened?"

He shook his head.

"Like Prussia said, we've been kidnapped. Whoever that man was, he _is _behind this. They put blindfolds over our eyes, so I have no idea where we are."

For the first time, you saw fear cross the blonde's face. You clenched your teeth. Who would do this? What would they do with you?

A stream of light came in from an opening door. The figure who you had been speaking to stood in front, the mask removed. Your mouth fell open.

"Lithuania?"

He checked around nervously.

"I'm so sorry. I'm going to try to get you guys out of here. You don't know…he's insane! I-"

"Oh, Liet, you really should stop running away from me."

The Baltic froze. A single light bulb flickered on above you, dimly illuminating the gray cell-like room you were in. Your head swung madly around, checking for the voice's source. The door opened and a tall, smiling man walked in. You tried to stop your hands from shaking.

"R-Russia? Why-"

He inclined his grin to you, making you shrink.

"Ah, (name). You seem to be in everyone's issues these days. Not sure if that's good or bad."

You could hear Prussia gnarl at his enemy. Lithuania shirked into a corner. You felt a twinge of pity for him. Where was Poland when you needed him?

"What is this the meaning of this?" Switzerland said, inching defensively forward.

"You and (name) weren't supposed to end up here, but, oh well, it won't be that much of a loss," he laughed.

Switzerland recoiled, his face growing white.

"What do you mean?"

He tilted his head to the side, acting evilly cute.

"It's funny, Prussia still being here."

You looked worriedly to the ex-nation. He set his jaw.

"W-what did you say about t-the awesome me?"

He tried to sound threatening, but his voice caught at the end.

Still smiling, Russia sent a cold stare his way.

"Why were you behind this all?" you said firmly.

"Prussia is a nuisance and unnecessary. All of you will be part of Mother Russia one day, but he has proved to be extra troublesome. I want to dispose of him."

You bit your lip. Nations couldn't "die", or at least you thought. Not from diseases or physical accidents. They could still hurt, though. In a sense, they could just whittle away, disappear.

"I didn't want to look evil, so I planned this, sending Lithuania to plant the traps. By angering Mr. Switzerland, I knew he wouldn't be here much longer."

Russia sighed sadly.

"But then you got involved, (name), spoiling the whole thing. Prussia would've been gone now, and we all wouldn't be here."

You stared emptily. Had you gotten them all into this mess?

"Don't worry, I'm only ridding the world of Prussia. You and Mr. Switzerland will stay alive, though you won't remember anything from the past couple of days."

He pulled a long metal object from his coat and smacked it in his hand. A pipe.

"Now, to get to business."

Russia stepped toward Prussia, who whimpered. You looked around the room. Lithuania cringed, angling away. Switzerland's eyes were clamped shut. No, this couldn't be happening. You wouldn't let it happen!

"Stop!" you shrieked.

All of the heads adverted to you.

"Stop, Russia, you- you don't know what you're doing. You can't kill Prussia."

He tilted his head.

"What do you mean, da?"

You took in a deep breath. Someone's life was depending on your words. Even if it was _Prussia's_, it was still a life.

"I realize that Prussia can be annoying and obnoxious and ignorant. And a bit boastful-"

"_Point_," Prussia hissed.

"Right, anyways, I've come to realize that, no matter how irritating he may be, he's a good person. Maybe a bit misunderstood, but he brings personality to the countries. I mean, what would the conferences be without the smart-mouthing Prussia? Remember last time when we all went out to that bar in Czech Republic? We all became _super _drunk and ended up on that island? That fond memory was because Prussia insisted on that competition!"

There was weak laughs around the room.

"My point is, Prussia is _still _a great nation, just in everyone's heart. If you took that kind of nation away, the world would be devastated. You can't do that to the world, Russia."

Silence. Russia's violet eyes moved from you to Prussia, and back again. You sat up, hopeful.

"You do have a valid point."

Your face lit up.

"But,"

Prussia's head drooped.

"I still have to do this."

You shut your eyes, willing yourself not to cry. Deep down, you would miss Prussia. The ex-nation always miffed you, but he made you laugh. He made things interesting. You wished Russia could see that.

"Just get it over with," he breathed.

Russia brought back his arm. You couldn't will yourself to look away. A single tear trickled down your cheek.

"_Goodbye_," you whispered.

Russia's pipe closed in on his face, then-

Poked him with it.

"Okay, I feel better now, da."

Your eyes widened. Prussia looked up, you noticed a few wet spots stained his crimson eyes.

"W-what?"

"Oh, I couldn't kill you after what (name) said. How shallow would that look? Liet, can you take off their binds?" he chuckled.

Lithuania, looking about as appalled as you, nodded and ran over. All of you stood up, flexing your wrists. Your head caused you to be a bit dizzy.

"Thank you, Russia," you said.

He smiled.

"Maybe it _is _a good thing you get pulled into these situations. They seem to have a hidden benefit."

You nodded, not quite sure what he meant.

"But you'll speak of this to no one, right da?"

All of you instantly bowed your heads.

"C-can we leave?" Prussia asked.

"Of course. Liet, show them the way out. And if you don't mind, I'd like to speak with you a moment, Mr. Switzerland."

The Alpine nation remained stoic and agreed.

…

Lithuania led you through the suspicious building and out to the night. You wondered where your coat had been left. The Baltic stopped you and Prussia in front of the exit doors.

"Please don't plan any…attacks against Russia. World War III would be bad for everyone…"

"Don't fret, Lithuania. I think I will try to avoid Russia after today," you reassured him.

He bowed and hurried back inside the building. Prussia turned toward you, a tender smile on his face. It was all you needed to understand.

"You're such a damn _pain_," you laughed.

You felt like you just wanted to burst into happy tears. He sniggered feebly back.

"Did you…mean everything you said back there?" he said, in a lower tone.

"No, I just made that whole speech up," you scoffed.

You noticed he was being serious and cleared your throat.

"Um…well, yes..."

You looked away, scuffling your feet. Dang it, why was your heart beating so fast? You did _not _like Prussia. He would just use you like some woman toy! He couldn't-

He inched closer to you, reaching a hand out of his coat pocket. You bit your lip at the heat rising to your cheeks. Why did you save his life, again?

"(name)," he whispered.

It wasn't in his seducing tone, like when he usually tried this. It was more intense, fervent. He gently traced a finger under your chin, then to where you were tensely gnawing on your lip. You looked into his hooded crimson eyes. He bent his head an inch away from yours. Your lips instinctively parted.

Footsteps approached down the hallway. Prussia respired and backed away. Switzerland came to the doorway, eyeing both of you.

"Shall we head home?"

…

Prussia returned to Germany's house on the border of Switzerland and Germany, without another word to you. Now you and Switzerland were back in the chilly night air of Lucerne. As he walked by you down the street, you couldn't resist the thoughts anymore.

"It's all my fault," you choked.

"Hmm?"

He turned to you with a stern expression.

"I could've stayed home and learned about Turkish marriages, a-and I made you leave your guns, which could've gotten us out a-and…"

You stared down at your feet. Being seen as a weak, crying girl was the last image you wanted to achieve, but you were tired, your head hurt, and the whole day was overwhelming. You needed to vent.

Switzerland shook his head.

"(name), sometimes you can be so _stupid._"

You clamped your eyes shut. Even he agreed. It was official.

"_You _were the one who saved Prussia, saved all of us. By _talking_."

You looked at him, still flustered. He smiled. It was rare to see him expressively happy. It was nice. You sniffed and tilted your head, sort of like Japan would. He huffed submissively and hugged you. You closed your eyes, leaning into his chest.

You both stood, at eleven thirty one P.M., in the middle of a barren sidewalk, embracing. It was what you needed. To get the cold, land locked nation to warm up made you feel happier. You wanted to see him happy, wondering if he wanted the same for you. Right now, you enjoyed the feeling of Switzerland's arms around you.

"Maybe…you could stay here longer? Liechtenstein is at her friend's house for the week," his whispered.

You looked up in his forest green eyes.

"I'd like that."

…

_[1] I just HAD to use that word. Its definitions are totally contradicting. For example, it can mean bloody, hopeful, sad, or happy. You really have to use context clues to find out what it means XD._

_Aghhh, I suck at writing mysteries. I'm sorry for making Russia evil! He just seemed to fit in as the villain._

_More fluff coming! _


	2. ItalyRomano: A Sickness

_I'm back! Things should be updating regularly now._

**…**

You returned from a pleasant week in Switzerland, refreshed and-

"_Achoo!"_

You sputtered all over your arm. Groaning, you walked over to the sink and washed it off. It was nothing, just allergy season. You _couldn't _be sick. History and Culture of Europe required your full attention! Nations couldn't get "sick". That term was unfamiliar to you.

The morning after, you laid stuck in your bed, sweating from a fever. You wheezed and pulled a pillow over your head. Okay, maybe you did catch a small bug, but it would go away soon. You were naturally resilient.

Two days later, you still felt horrible. Three after that, it got increasingly worse. History and Culture of Europe couldn't wait any longer! You called into the pharmacy and booked your medication.

Slipping a coat over your pajamas and stuffing the pockets full of extra tissues, you twisted the keys to your car and sped off into town. Through your blood-shot eyes and scraggly hair, you hoped no one could recognize you.

You picked up your little brown bag of medicine and came out in a jiffy. You hated being that zombie looking person moping around, so you didn't stick around the store. This illness, whatever it was, was draining you. You were not yourself at all, you even went as far to cancel the meeting you scheduled with Netherlands. In this state you weren't attractive at all. If you ran into your boss, well, prepare for a lecture on hand washing.

Completely oblivious, you crashed into a man.

"Hey pal, watch it-" he cut off.

You brought your collar up and looked down.

"Um, sorry."

You brushed past him.

"Ve~ (name)!"

You were tackled into a hug from behind.

"Italy (cough) no, get away from me, I'm (cough),"

Italy gasped.

"(name), you're sick!"

You sighed at how stuffy your voice sounded. Of course you would run into the handsome Italian brothers when you looked like a pile of-

"You look bad," said Romano, coming up behind him.

You furrowed your brows.

"I'd like to know why you are in my country."

You tried to sound imposing, but it came out nasally.

"We were shopping for some of your special ingredients! After what you told us about your cuisine, we had to try it!"

"Um, huh, yeah…"

You bent over, coughing violently. Italy's eyebrows made a worried frown.

"Ve, you're really ill. I know, I'll clean your house for you!"

"Oh no, you shouldn't do that Italy,"

More extreme coughing.

"You shouldn't be alone in this condition! We'll come to your house and make sure you get better. Right Romano?"

"Cheh."

You agreed, not having the voice to object any more. Italy carried your medicine sack for you as you started the car. You weren't about to let him drive.

"Ve, what are you sick with?"

"Um, well, (cough) the doctor said it's a combination of things. Fever, (cough) cold, (cough), stuff like that."

"None of the…throwing up stuff, right?" Romano asked.

Your tried to laugh, but it came out as a wheeze.

"No, luckily. You won't have to worry about cleaning up…bodily fluids."

You pulled into your house. The keys jingled as you unlocked the door, heading into your living area.

"I'll fix some food! You have pasta, right?" Italy asked.

"I think so."

"Yay!"

He ran off to the kitchen. You plopped down on the couch. Romano stood at the corner of the room, an uncomfortable grimace on his face.

"Something wrong?"

You reached for a tissue. He watched you blow your nose, then began to speak, making no effort to hide his displeasure.

"You should take a shower. It'll help clear up your sinuses."

"You can just tell me I smell like a three week old pile of fish."

He slapped his forehead.

"Dammit, that's not what I-"

"I know, I know."

You struggled off the sofa.

"But thanks, I'm sure a shower will help. Make yourself at home."

When he heard the bathroom door shut and lock, Romano let out a long sigh. Even when you were _sick _you were irresistibly cute.

…

The hot shower _did _make you feel better. You changed into some decent, comfy clothes and ran a brush through your messy hair. Although your face was still ruddy, you looked better than before. You wandered out of the bathroom, the smell of cooking pasta finding its way to your nostrils. Your wet feet squeaked as your walked on the wood.

"Smells good, Italy!" you said, peering over his shoulder in the boiling pot.

"Should be ready soon, (name). Go relax."

You raised your eyebrows at his instructive tone.

"Er, I had some paperwork I needed to look over…"

"Ve! You really do need someone here! You won't get better if you don't rest."

You were going to object, but a coughing fit concluded Italy was right. You went to lay down on your large bed, reaching for a source of reading. It touched you that Italy was so concerned. You'd have to do something nice for him…once you were feeling better.

Romano shyly knocked on the door and peeped in.

"Hey bas- er, (name). _Fratello_[1] told me to, um, make sure you were resting."

He crossed his arms.

"But you're clearly not. Reading a damn economic report? Take your mind off business. You're turning into the Swiss bastard."

"Well, if I was like you and _neglected _every important meeting, I'd be knee deep in debt. Good thing you have such a responsible brother."

"Shut your mouth and rest."

"No."

You stuck out your tongue.

"God, you're so freaking stubborn!"

He jumped on the bed, maintaining a safe distance from you and your sickness. He leaned on his side, eyes locked on you.

"I'm not leaving until you go to sleep."

"Does that mean you'll keep nagging me?

"Yes."

"Curses."

Sticking out your lip, you placed the economic sheet on the nightstand. You weren't tired yet, and arguing with Romano only made you more aware. Lately you had gotten more sleep than was needed. You felt around the bed, then realized where the item was. Apprehensively, you reached over Romano, but you failed to hold yourself up all the way. Your torso brushed his side. His face started to redden.

"Get off me, you sickly-"

You held up the remote, silencing him. His face morphed back into irritability.

"I said, _go to sleep _not _turn on the TV._"

"I have to watch a little TV before I go to sleep."

Romano huffed and overturned on his back. You flipped absently through the channels. He bit his lip. _Click. Click. Click. _He slammed a fist down on the bed.

"You've already been through these channels two times! Ugh, give me the god damn remote."

He snatched the device from your hand. You crossed your arms.

"You really need to learn better manners."

"Cheh, hard when I'm around you."

You narrowed your eyes.

"I was talking to Spain, and he said you were just like this when you were little-"

He stopped messing with the remote and glared intensely.

"When were you talking to that bastard?"

You paused and placed a finger on your chin.

"Why, just yesterday. We were having _the best _conversation. We're such good friends!"

Romano made a guttural sound from his throat.

"Never, _ever_ speak to him again."

You stifled a cough to maintain your serious look.

"Why not? He's my friend."

"Because, he'll-"

Romano went on to describe a number of possibilities in graphic detail. You laid there, wide eyed, for several moments. He smiled a little at the sight of you speechless, thinking: _No witty comeback this time, (name)?_

"S-speaking from experience?" you choked out.

"Ugh, you drive me _crazy _sometimes!"

…

You sat a comfortable distance from Romano in your bed. It wasn't a scene you had pictured before, at least with you sick or fully clothed. He had finally settled on a cooking channel, which _did _start to make you drowsy. You slid your feet under the sheets, feeling oddly chilly.

All of the sudden, you erupted into shivers. Romano diverted from the obnoxious chef on TV.

"What's wrong with you? I thought you had a _fever_."

"I-I do, b-but sometimes it can c-cause chills," you said, teeth chattering.

"O-oh poop, I don't have an e-extra blanket."

You cocooned yourself in the sheets. The day before, you had dropped off your bed covers at the dry cleaners. They were soiled with your ill residue so much you couldn't stand it anymore.

Romano made a face, both of deep thought and worry.

"M-maybe we could-just-possibly-"

He covered his eyes with his hand.

"Could it help i-if we…"

You let out a breathy sigh.

"_What?_"

"Cuddled."

You considered this.

"W-what about 'stay away from me, you walking outbreak'?"

He groaned.

"I d-don't want you to get worse, stupid."

You offered a sweet smile.

"Fine, let's c-cuddle then."

Pink started to dust both of your cheeks. Slowly, Romano scooted closer to you. With a nod, he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, beckoning you into him. You clenched his shirt and shoved him closer. He lightly slid another arm across your waist.

You reveled in the Italian's intense heat. So the rumors _were _true. Thoughts sent a worse blush rushing. You traced your fingers down to the half-nation's bare wrist. He gripped you hand, causing you to hide your embarrassment in the crook of his shoulder.

"D-damn, you're cold," he said lowly.

You squeaked in response, meaning to laugh. He started lightly stroking your back.

You were snuggling. With _Romano_. The hot-headed Italian wasn't unattractive at all, but you felt…_intimidated_ in his presence. You didn't mean to tease him so much as you did, but it was hard to just talk with him. Was it a crush? No, no, you didn't have such things. Even on gorgeous, tan, Italian boys…who you were _cuddling _with!

Your shivers started to subside, but Romano did not let go. You uncovered your view to look up at him. His tender amber eyes were hooded.

"You're- you're just doing this because…"

He nuzzled your head.

"S-shut up and sleep."

So you shut up.

…

"(name)?" Romano said, caressing your hair.

Your face was obscured in his chest. He couldn't believe it. You and him…this close. Sure, you were sick and he was probably going to get your affliction, but having you in his arms. It was worth it, dammit.

"I-I think-"

Not the time to seem afraid.

"I think I'm in love with you."

He held his breath, waiting for your reaction. There was a lot of people who liked you. Hell, he wasn't even sure you were single, but he had to confess it. He wanted you to love him.

"(name)?"

He placed a finger under your chin and- you were sleeping. You just had to fall asleep _now_.

…

"Wake up, (name)."

A hand gently shook you. You groaned and burrowed deeper into the object beside you.

"Urgh, fu-"

"PASTA!" Italy yelled suddenly.

You shot up. Romano's arms fell limp to his sides. Italy materialized in the doorway.

"Do you feel well enough to come to the kitchen?"

"Yes, er, Romano?"

"I'm not hungry," he grumbled, sinking down in the bed.

You shrugged and followed Italy to your kitchen. An array of pasta, soup, and fruit sat on the table. You inspected one of the plates.

"Wow, I didn't even know I _had _that!"

"Ve, you keep all the best ingredients in the back of your pantry!"

You started with a spoonful of chicken basil soup. Italy advised you to blow on it, it could burn your tongue. Then he made sure you had a napkin, standing close to the side of you. You tried to focus on eating your soup and not his new motherly attitude.

"Don't forget to take your medicine!"

"Italy, why are you taking care of me?"

Surprisingly, he didn't have an immediate response.

"Because you're my friend, (name)."

"But you wouldn't go to all this trouble for a _friend_."

You realized your words and looked down. There was a moment of silence again.

"You're my _best _friend, (name)!"

"I thought Germany was your best friend."

"Um, he is, but Germany isn't as pretty as you, ve!"

You laughed, which turned into a cough.

"Are you (cough) going to spend the night here? I do have a guest bedroom, if you don't mind sleeping with Romano."

His eyes trailed around.

"I don't mind sleeping with Roma, but…"

He fidgeted with his hands.

"Could I sleep with you instead?"

You paled.

"U-um, I don't want you to get what I have…"

"But Romano has already gotten the chance to sleep with you."

You rubbed your face.

"Um, I suppose, but-"

Italy ran up and hugged you. You tried not to breathe on him. The brothers couldn't be totally immune to what you had. Weren't they concerned at all about getting sick? You'd set up the couch for him in your room.

There was angry footsteps down the corridor.

"Bastard, who said you could sleep with name?"

"(name) did-agh, _fratello,_ stop choking me!"

**EXTENDED ENDING**

You placed the wet towels on their foreheads, sighing. One smiled gratefully, then erupted into a fit of coughs.

"I _told _you you'd get sick."

Romano choked out something that sounded like a very bad curse word. Taking care of the Italy brothers..._this_ would be your thanks to them. _History and Culture of Europe _would have to wait ever longer.

**…**

_[1] Sibling or brother in Italian._

_Abrupt ending is abrupt. Not much you can make happen when the main character is sick, and I can't go too deeply into description of the home. Ugh…must…describe__..._


	3. England: Secret Mission

_I left your boss's gender open and tried not to personalize them too much. But, come one, doesn't _every _boss act like this? Oh, and this is not really a double person fic, I couldn't think of someone to use with England. Hey, there's his brothers, so I didn't completely abandon the theme._

_Ugh, Secret Agent Man song, get out of my head!_

_WARNING: Lots 'o British slang!_

**…**

The cream colored walls and paper-like stench of the office was all too familiar. You waited patiently, hands folded behind your back. Your boss adjusted a pencil so it was aligned neatly with the rest. You couldn't stand it anymore.

"Is there a reason you summoned me, boss?"

"Ah yes, (name)."

Your boss, your country's official leader, had called you into their headquarters. You were anxious, the only time they would request you was if there was an urgent matter a mortal couldn't handle…or the stapler went missing again.

"You are acquainted with the island nation England?"

You nodded slowly, unsure what would bring that up. Relations with the U.K. were fair, as far as you knew. Sometimes your boss would let certain details escape your attention.

"And you had visited him in February at his own inquiry?"

"Yes."

"I do hate when you don't tell me about these visits."

You were about to tell them your life was yours to control, not everything you did involved politics. It was wise to keep your mouth shut, though. There were plenty of other trips you hadn't deemed to tell your boss about…

"Anyways," they continued, giving you a "_I'll find out about that later_" look.

"It has come to my attention that this country could become a formidable ally."

Your worries dissolved. Maybe your boss just wanted you to try and be closer friends to England.

"Or a dangerous enemy."

You slumped.

"The fact is, our database is lacking information about the U.K., and England, for that matter. We all know many of the European nations have kept quiet lately. As I've heard, you have gained the favor of many. Our country is becoming more prominent, and I suspect England will want to take some sort of action. He seems to get involved with _everyone's _business."

Your boss pulled an unsealed letter out of their desk, written in beautiful cursive.

"Do you know what this is?"

"No."

"Good, we removed it from your mailbox."

You pressed your lips together. _No comment, no comment._

"This letter is from England, just some jibberish about catching up and so on. He's said he's available anytime this month, except before the 5th, when he is meeting for business."

They paused, waiting for a response.

"Um, it is the 2nd today."

They nodded.

"Excellent observation. This letter seems almost pleadingly worded to meet with you after that date, so I have assumed that this "business" has something to do with you, the country. It isn't a formal invite, but I know better."

They stirred their coffee.

"I want you to head over to England, incognito, and observe him."

You blinked.

"Boss, you want me to…spy?"

"Bluntly putting it, yes. This vague invitation is too much of a risk. We wouldn't want you potentially captured or hurt. With the connections you've made, it could cause chaos throughout Europe. You wouldn't want that."

You shook your head.

"Then you will agree?" It was more of a command than a question.

You hated this, when you were pulled into business and friendships, possibly betraying someone's trust. If you were a complacent little country, you'd act as a pawn for your boss. It was _you _who built up the relationships, yet your boss could make you destroy them with a flick of their hand.

You couldn't refuse straight out. Your boss did take notice to you ignoring them.

"Yes, just…tell me what I'll need to do."

They gave you an expecting smile.

"You will head to London, where this "business" is supposed to be taking place. I suspect it will be held in an upper class restaurant called Mahogany Road, with someone representing for the prime minister, something of that caliber. You'll be catching a flight there early tomorrow so you can keep a tab on him throughout the day, until the meeting."

"And after his meeting?"

"Return straight here and give any information of importance. This could have nothing to do with you, but I don't want to take any chances."

You sighed tiredly. Spying…on _England. _The bitter island nation wasn't your first choice, but after your last visit you started to really like the guy. But _spying _on him? That would be crossing the boundary. This had to be a stealth mission.

…

You examined the low knit black dress sprawled on your bed. Picking up the scarlet neck tie, you shook your head. You instead went for a slightly dressy white shirt and black slacks. You'd have to blend in at the sophisticated restaurant, just enough so you wouldn't stand terribly out.

Putting the finishing touches to your hair, you rushed out the doorway, suitcase in hand. Time to catch your painfully early flight to London. You didn't feel like a spy scrunched in the dirty airplane seats. Couldn't your boss at least gotten you first class?

…

The London terminal was bustling, even at 6:30 in the morning. You kept your head low and ducked into a bagel shop. While eating, you examined the note your boss had given you. Apparently, they had sent other "operatives" to "observe" England, categorizing his daily routine. You sighed. How long had this been going on? Were other nations sending people to spy on him without him being aware? You were suddenly concerned about England's safety. Your relationship was…average, but the island country never let anyone to close to him. There weren't any _attacks _at risk, were there?

You shook your head, looking back at the paper. He headed to a coffee shop for breakfast, most likely because he didn't want to eat his own cooking. After that, a stroll around the city, sometimes stopping in random shops. From the coffee place you could just follow him around, if you managed to remain undetected.

You finished your bagel then halted at the sound of wheels rolling loudly on the tile. Carrying a suitcase around would look suspicious. You found a hidden nook behind a plant and stuffed it inside. It would be fine until you finished your mission. You smiled at the term. A mission; you were on a mission. Not just any mission, either. The entire fate of Europe rested on you! You buffed your nails on your shirt. See, you _did _have important responsibilities.

You took off, searching aimlessly around London for the messy blonde. He wouldn't be around a large group of people, he preferred solitude. You stopped for a moment. How did you know this much about him?

"I'll have the citrus blast, extra lemon."

You perked up at the familiar British accent. He stood in front of a counter at an outdoor coffee shop. Finally, you'd found him! He spun around, a steaming plastic cup in both hands. This gave you enough time to slip into a vacant chair. Out of the corner of your eye you saw him settle at a table next to yours, holding a piece of paper in his hand. A man stared across at you from the table.

"Can I…help you?"

You pressed a finger to your lips and continued watching England. He unfolded the paper then furrowed his brows.

"Damn Ireland, never forgets about his potatoes," he mumbled.

He clinked his spoon against his drink which was not coffee, but tea. Then, with a deep scowl on his face, read over the letter.

You decided to make observations, like a real secret agent. England was wearing a light dress shirt with a red tie and brown pants. Slightly formal, but not nearly dressy enough to meet someone representing the prime minister. His blonde hair was still messy, though it looked like he attempted to run a comb through it. A bag was slung across his chest, where he had retrieved the paper. You scoffed. _Purse boy._

At the current moment, he looked like he just tasted something bitter. Nothing out of the norm. You needed a special notepad! The man across from you shook his head and left.

You watched England finish up his tea then leave, to which you followed a distance behind. He started down the streets of London, glaring at the passerby. You could only imagine him as an old, grumpy man. Occasionally, he'd glance back. To that you pretended to examine the wall. The following scene was going well; you'd think you did this type of work all the time.

England paused and circled around a busy street to a park. He analyzed the fake green surroundings, but appeared to be looking for someone. Just to be safe, you kneeled behind a short stone wall. Pattering footsteps sounded on the close by sidewalk.

A grinning red head stood a ways from England.

"Aye, Britty boy!"

The blonde country sighed.

"Look clover git, let's just-"

"That's no way to greet your dear brother!"

The sudden sweep of an arm around England made you drop further to the ground.

"You owe me a pint, do you not, brother?" the louder one said.

"You're just trying to deprive me of my coin."

"Actually, I was hoping to get you blindly drunk so you'd reveal all your scandalous secrets to me, but close enough."

"Uphill gardener," the blonde mumbled.

He leaned an arm over the wall. You held your breath and pressed closer to it. The other freckled nation was Northern Ireland, one of England's brothers. Last he spoke of any of them was of the curses he received in the mail. A rare occasion for them to be seen together intentionally, as you guessed from the way they were acting.

North Ireland slid his arm further across the wall. You cover could _not _be blown. You were too curious now, even if it wasn't about you.

"Now, now, we had conditions. None of your ridiculous name calling, ya gowl."

"You just broke your own rule, arse licker."

You contained the laughter. England usually wouldn't use his odd slang in front of you. He was a "gentleman", or so he claimed.

"Don't be startin' a brawl now, brother. I'm here in this tippy city to actually talk to you."

"London is better than any of your cities!"

"Your pubs are trashy."

"So you've already been to one, wanker?"

"Bah, I tried to be nice!"

North Ireland stomped around the wall. The realization hit you too late. You shuffled back to your knees.

"Oof!"

North Ireland tripped over your form, making you stumble backwards. You started to hurriedly regain your composure. It was still fine, England hadn't seen you.

"Wha-(name)? Why are you in _this _city?"

North Ireland looked up at you, rubbing his carrot colored hair. You backed up.

"I-uh-um-"

"(name)?"

England came around the corner. North Ireland scratched his head.

"You weren't expecting her? Ooh, here on a secret mission, (name)?"

You paled.

"No! Why would I be doing that? Haha!"

England scrunched his bushy eyebrows. You kept the innocent smile going.

"Er, (name), can I speak with you over here?"

"Sure!" you said a bit too fast.

North Ireland snickered. England stopped around the edge of a bush. He rubbed his hand against his forehead.

"Oh bullocks, this is going to be uncomfortable."

You grasped your arm. Wasn't he famous for James Bond and his elite police force? He had to know many interrogation methods…Your best chance now was to just remain silent and endure what was to come.

"I know I told you any date before the 5th would be for business…"

You looked down at your feet.

"B-but actually…"

He sighed.

"My idiot brothers are coming to see me and I might've, slightly, told them…you and I were…"

Your head snapped up.

"Dating?"

"Er, yes, but not that I'm, um, _attracted _to you or anything. Frankly, you can be quite bothersome. My brothers just keep bloody hounding me about how I should get out and meet people. They think I'm a _recluse, _bah!"

You crossed your arms, your frustration masking your relief. So this whole thing wasn't about you, at least not in the sense you were expecting. This would be awkward to explain to your boss. But, you were still on a mission. You couldn't let England know you were spying on him. There had to be some useful piece of information you could whittle out somehow. Best to keep on _his _problem to keep him from questioning you.

"So what are you going to do now? If you're that disgusted with me you have to tell them we're not, um, _paramours._"

"No, it's not-agh-I can't-"

He took a deep breath.

"I can't tell them. Do you know how long they'd ridicule me? You're going to have to…act like I'm your, er, boyfriend. Just for today. Please."

You slumped.

"But you-"

"Hey lovebirds~"

North Ireland stepped into view.

"I have the _perfect _idea. There's a band concert tonight. Y'know, one of those ones where you lay out on blankets? You can show off your new relationship in front of everyone! Ireland, Scotland, and I will all come too, so we can still have our "chat", Iggy. It'll be smashing! Unless...you two are breaking up so soon?"

"No, no!"

You grabbed England's hand and smiled.

"I'm so hopelessly in _l__ove _with him!"

You couldn't manage his name. North Ireland raised his eyebrows.

"That's hard to believe, but I guess even the snot deserves someone."

England hesitantly returned your grasp.

"Yes North, that'd be excellent."

"Aha, I know, I'm brilliant! Now, let's all find a decent mart. I need some new trousers!"

He spun around on his heel. You had a plan. As long as you kept up this girlfriend charade, England would be too distracted to wonder why you were here. Your cover wasn't totally blown yet.

…

The trip with North Ireland was full of forced hand holding and giggling. When he wasn't looking, you'd both steal glares at each other. Even if it was fake, England was horrible at being affectionate.

North Ireland took off to find Scotland and Ireland, leaving you and England alone. He loaded some blankets into the trunk silently. You leaned against the car, looking around absently.

"How could you do that?" he snapped out of nowhere.

"What?"

"Say that you were in…_love _with me! Now we're going to have to act seriously involved!"

"Well, _excuse me_, I thought that would make it more believable. I guess your little fake break up with me will be more heart breaking," you said sharply.

He paused, the scowl lightening.

"Are you actually mad?"

"Maybe I am."

You weren't. If anything, you were a bit allured. The solitary nation chose _you _out of anyone to, erm, fake date. This was still a strictly professional trip though. You had to report back to your boss. If they found out you were lollygagging with the very person you were supposed to avoid…there goes your limited freedom on trips.

England shut the trunk, not meeting your eyes.

"Let's go."

You hopped in the passenger side. Keeping him in a fair mood would be a challenge.

…

"'Ello lass, what are ya doing with a complete bloke like him?"

He patted you on the back.

"Hello to you, Scotland. Ireland."

The others beamed at your acknowledgement. You were acquainted with England's brothers, knowing they didn't get much recognition, since England represented the entire U.K.

"So where are we sitting? I've never been to one of these before," you said.

North Ireland pointed to the stage light illuminated grass.

"We're sitting somewhere around the back, so you lovers can have your little night tryst,"

He wiggled his eyebrows.

"But good enough so that the rest of us can see."

"Let's get our blankets arranged before the show starts," Ireland said in his smoky voice.

You laid out England and your blanket a comfortable distance away from the others. Now you could see why he was so worried about their teasing, it seemed like they never relented.

A band entered the stage and began playing. You clamped your hands over your ears.

"What? You don't like rock?" he hissed, sprawling out next to you.

"No, I love rock, but _this _is a disgrace!"

He stared thoughtfully.

"I agree. Everyone seems to think this band is the best."

"Kids these days."

He laughed. You were taken aback by his abrupt smile. England probably smiled less than anyone you knew. It was different. You wanted to see him smile again.

You place your head on the blanket and stared up at the twinkling night sky. With a soft intake of breath, he rested his head as well.

You bit your lip. The one thing you wanted to do…no, you had to resist. It was _England_. He'd spit in your face if you even tried. He had said he wasn't attracted to you. You were strong, you could hold back.

England shifted, his arm creeping closer to yours. Dang it. You cuddled up next to him, your arms tentatively hovering above his torso. With a sigh, he touched your hands on him. You fought the giddy smile. Argh, this was not you! You were acting like some foolish school girl!

He clenched your shoulder and pulled you closer. You rested your head on his chest, listening to his rapidly increasing heartbeat.

"Iggy?"

"Only since you're my fake girlfriend will I let you call me that."

You laughed softly.

"Why did you pick me? Er, to be your phony lover I mean."

There was a moment of silence.

"Because you were…the least agitating. Hah, or so I thought."

You smiled, shaking your head.

"Well, I think you're pretty displeasing."

"Ouch, that hurts, luv."

You raised your head so it was above his.

"And your eyebrows need a desperate waxing."

He pouted, touching his big eyebrows. You smiled devilishly.

"But I heard from someone your accent is pretty sexy…"

You nonchalantly glanced away. His green eyes widened. He grabbed your jaw and pulled you to his face.

"Bloody hell (name), you're making me-"

"Woah, didn't mean to interrupt a make-out session."

You pushed off England, who was looking very flustered. North Ireland stood in front, a bottle in each hand.

"I brought you each a grand flask of gin!"

He extended the bottle to you, making a sloshing sound. You paled, remembering your last experience with alcohol. England was not a happy drunk either.

"Erm, no thank you. I think we'll be going home soon. I'm getting tired."

"Taking it to the bedroom, eh?"

England's face inflamed.

"No, get lost, wanker."

North Ireland chuckled and held up his hands.

"Alright, alright, good night you two."

…

You stared out into the night streets of London. The city didn't settle down even close to midnight. Only the whooshing sound of the air conditioner filled the car.

"Wait!' you exclaimed, slamming your hand on the dashboard.

England almost slammed on the breaks.

"What?"

"My suitcase, I left it at the airport."

England gave you a weird look.

"You left your suitcase at the airport?"

"I hid it. Please, I can't get a hotel without it."

He sighed.

"Okay, but we have to hurry."

He swerved around the intersection. You jumped out of the car and into the airport entrance. Over the waiting area, behind the plant, you memorized. You spotted the obviously plastic fern, but your colorful travel bag was missing. You in took a shaky breath, patting all possible places around the pot. Your bag had all of your clothes, you were definitely not going to stay in your itchy meeting outfit. England peered over your shoulder.

"Something wrong?"

"The-the-I-no-" you sputtered.

"Where's your suitcase?"

"It's-ngh-it…"

"Is it somewhere-"

"It's not here, dammit!"

You punched the air.

"Well, you _did _leave it at one of the busiest terminals in the world…" he muttered.

You growled.

"Calm down, you (hair color) ball of imminent troubles. There's a store over there for people like you. It has coats, toothbrushes, tea bags, anything you might've forgotten to pack."

You blinked.

"England,"

"Hmm?"

You tugged his hand.

"You are a _life _saver."

…

A cha-ching of the cash register rang throughout the empty airport store.

"And the total comes to…forty point thirty two pounds."

The cashier smiled expectantly.

"Hey, Brit," you nudged the slouching man next to you.

"What?"

"My wallet was in the suitcase."

"Bullocks."

…

You stripped off your sticky clothes from the day. The cool air rushed around your body. Letting out a sigh, you neatly folded them next to the quilted bed and picked up the flannel airport pajamas. Although you were pretty sure they were men's and they smelled like metal, they would be better than sleeping in your dressy clothes.

You clutched them in your hands and opened the window. The distant lights of London flickered. Your spy mission didn't go exactly as planned, plus you had nothing to report to your boss. Maybe you could tell them that it wasn't about you and there was nothing to worry about. Ah, but then they would ask why you had stayed the whole day.

_BANG!_

The loud knock on the door made you jump. Your only set of pajamas flew out of your hands and to the window. You clenched the pane and watched as they fluttered down into darkness. Shoot.

Another urgent knock.

"Um,"

You did the only thing you could muster: grab the Union Jack sheet off the bed and wrap it around your bare form. You positioned yourself on the bed and folded your legs neatly.

"Come in."

The door creaked open slowly. England's arm was raised, his eyes closed, looking to prepare for a lecture. You grabbed the falling sheet to your chest. He had not seen you yet.

"(name) I-"

He opened his bright green eyes. You smiled phonily. His mouth dropped open.

"I, agh, um…" he stuttered.

Both of your faces started to turn scarlet.

"U-um, sleep well!"

With that, he slammed the door. You slapped your forehead.

**EXTENDED ENDING**

He exhaled sharply and slumped against your door. You, naked, wrapped in nothing but the Union Jack. It was a scene he had sadly pictured before…You, _naked, _in HIS house! Argh, this was ridicule, this was-

He loosened his tie and trudged toward his room. Now you probably thought he was some pervy wanker. This whole day…it was aggravating, yet somehow almost perfect. Yes, it was a historic day. Today he realized that he, England, the isolated nation, decided he was in love with you.

**…**

_Yes, you DID eventually get your suitcase, wallet, and passport back. That's why you had to stay at England's house, you poor, broke thing._


	4. TurkeyGreece: A Cat's Life

_You have to read Greece's dialogue slowly, maybe with pauses. It makes it more realistic. I just didn't feel like putting in "…" after every sentence._

**…**

Clouds of gray circled around you. The glowing floor emitted a soft hum. It made you drowsy, you wanted to do nothing but curl up for a nice, warm, long, nap…

But there was a more important matter at hand. Where _were _you? You struggled wobbly to your feet. Had you gotten kidnapped again?

A faint cry sounded in the distance. You squinted your eyes in the direction. Only pale mist wafted around, not making a sound. Wherever you were, you had never seen this ominous place before. Weren't you just in-

The cry sounded again, more urgent. You started to run, your bare feet pattering against the floor. Wait, you were _sure _you had put on shoes this morning. Cold vapor whipped around your face. A round, orange shape appeared out of the blurriness. You hurried over and kneeled.

"Mew?"

Two yellow eyes stared back at you. A cat? This place was getting more and more confusing. You reached out your hand to the creature, hovering an inch above its head. Clunky footsteps echoed in front of you. You looked up slowly. A dark, ghastly figure loomed inches from the cat. It breathed something incomprehensible.

Suddenly, razor edge wings outstretched from its back. You yelped and fell backwards. The cat scurried away in the fog.

"Whoops, wrong form."

It waved a shadowy arm. In a flash of light, a man with soft blonde ringlets replaced the demonic creature. He covered his mouth with a tan hand.

"Ah, (name), I wasn't expecting you right now…"

You gawked. He was dressed in a crinkled white toga, a laurel crown hanging crookedly from his hair. It was literally centuries out of fashion. How did he know your name? He felt familiar, like you knew him, yet never actually saw him.

"Recognize me?"

You bit your lip. Would he obliterate you in his scary form if you answered wrong?

"Y-you're from a textbook or something…"

"I'm in statues and great plays as well, in case you didn't know. But yes, er, textbooks."

He yawned once again. Then it dawned on you.

"You're the Greek god…Morpheus! But why-"

"Yes, yes, I'd love to properly introduce myself, but you see, I'm here for a reason and have a tendency to get off track."

He paused and scratched his head. This wasn't exactly how you imagined a great Greek god. He was much more casual.

"You know who this woman is, correct?"

He waved his arm and an image flickered next to him. It was a woman with long, wavy brown hair and a split curl sticking out at the top. You stifled a gasp. You had heard stories, rumors…she was beautiful, a duplicate of Heracles. She was Ancient Greece. Morpheus watched you carefully and nodded.

"So you do. And you know this man,"

The image morphed into a smiling, stout man. A person you had begrudgingly been acquainted with lately. You sighed and bobbed your head.

"Do you know what he did to her?"

You scrunched your eyebrows and shook your head. Morpheus's gray eyes clouded.

"He-"

"_(name)?" _A loud voice rippled, shaking the ground.

The whole area started to become unfocused. Morpheus cursed in another language.

"Ack, I don't have much time. (name) listen, you can't trust him, he's-"

The voice shook again. Morpheus blinked black a few times.

"Why can't I trust him?" you asked urgently.

"That man, he plans to-"

"_(name)!"_

Your head shot up from a wooden conference table. A line of nations were staring at you blankly.

"Huh-uh, what?"

America stood at the front of the table.

"I asked for your opinion, (name)."

"On, um…I agree."

England sent a glare your way.

"Hmm, okay. I guess that ends today's meeting, dudes."

Chairs squeaked upon the wooden floor. You rubbed your forehead. This week in Greece was making you delusional. You scooted out of your seat, blank notes in hand, and headed for the door. A nice cup of coffee was just what you needed. The warm climate did have a sleepy effect on a person.

"Hey, (name)!"

The French accent made you sprint out the door. Not today, Francy-pants!

…

"I'm sorry _monsieur _Greece, she bolted away from me!"

The bronze skinned nation walked slowly behind the Frenchman.

"That's okay. I'll catch up to her…maybe after a nap."

"Oh, but I'd hurry, the Turkish _camarade_ [1] was heading her way."

France turned his head to the side, then looked around in panic . No man could get away _that _fast, especially Greece.

…

You held your nose above the steaming cup. There was an outdoor coffee shop downtown. It was best to take a break when you had the chance. Today was just the second day of a long week of world meetings.

This time _everyone _was attending, which meant it would be extended even further until you all agreed on something. You hoped agreeing that you would never come to a decision counted. The meeting being in Greece had its pros though, when it wasn't sleep inducing. People were friendly enough to you here, more so than other places.

You took a sip of the brew and took out a report from your bag. Well, you weren't the only nation who was prone to dozing off during a summit.

"Excuse me, mam?"

You looked up at a young man, understanding the Greek.

"Yes?"

"I think there is someone in the…bushes, watching you."

You turned around. The surrounding shrubbery looked normal. You furrowed your brows. The man didn't look like he was joking.

"Er, thank you. I'll go check it out."

Sighing, you grasped your coffee and peered over the bushes. Nothing. You shook them. Still nothing. You gave it a kick. Hmm, was this some sort of prank? You didn't encounter any of that behavior yet.

"(name)," a voice whispered huskily behind you.

You yelped and launched your coffee at the pursuer. He stepped to the side just in time.

"Whoa, calm down!"

Messy brown hair, dark green uniform, mysterious white mask…you frowned.

"Turkey."

He grinned widely.

"(name)."

"What do you want?" you asked impatiently.

He shrugged and unscrewed the cap off a dark bottle.

"You keep your coffee in a bottle?"

"Ick, no. Coffee's too bitter. This is apple juice."

"What are you, four?"

This only made him laugh.

"Hah, you called me young!"

You rolled your eyes. He didn't have any excuses to hang around you now, other than he wanted to. Like _that _would ever be the cause. You were tired of having to deal with rambunctious countries today.

"Well, remember that you owe me a cup of coffee. I have things to do, see you tomorrow."

You began to spin around.

"What do you have to do _here_?"

Drat.

"Um, business matters."

"Your business just ended thirteen minutes ago."

"Uh…"

He materialized in front of you.

"I think you're just trying to avoid me."

You bit your lip. Not the time to seem like a jerk. That could cause problems at the meeting.

"I'm just doing some solitary sight-seeing, if you're that interested."

"Then you wouldn't mind if I took you to dinner afterwards? Or do you have _business_?"

He crossed his arms, a challenging smile playing on his lips.

"No, in fact, you can just tag along with me the whole day. I _invite _you."

"I think I will."

"Good."

You started toward your rented moped, Turkey trotting happily on your heels. What had you just agreed to?

…

"Y-you drive like a maniac!" Turkey squeaked in a very unmanly voice.

His arms were clenched around your waist suffocatingly. You took a sharp swerve around a corner, narrowly missing a crossing pedestrian. They dove to the sidewalk.

"Sorry!" you yelled.

Turkey whined and put his face in the crook of your shoulder. It sounded like he was praying. You weren't that familiar with the moped, but hey, you hadn't killed anyone yet. It was still technically your vehicle, so you insisted you drive. You weren't _that _bad.

"At least you're wearing your helmet," you said over the buzzing of the tires.

"You took the helmet, remember?"

You dodged a pothole.

"Oh. Just don't fall off, okay?"

…

Greece watched in amazement from the street. Who was that crazy driver? Italy couldn't have been out driving after the last incident. He hoped you weren't anywhere near that vehicle.

…

You trudged up to a woman wearing a bright green polo. She waved her arms in front of a crowd.

"People, the entrance is _here_! Those aren't ruins!"

"Ugh, I didn't know you were going to see some dumb Greek ruins," Turkey muttered.

You shrugged and approached the lady. Her eyes widened at the tall Turk behind you.

"Oh, um, greetings," she squeaked.

Was she starting to blush? Oh great, not _again_. Why were all of the park employees women who were immediately attracted to your companions?

"What's the entrance fee?" you asked ardently.

"U-um, it's free…"

She swooned toward him. Turkey brought an arm to his messy hair. Hmph, going for the sheepish look. You huffed, you weren't going to put up with this today.

"Okay, when you're done, I'll be over there, learning about history."

You turned around without another word.

"Er, (name), wait. Excuse me miss-"

"No, don't go...You're much more interesting that the ruins, trust me."

…

_Dionysus- God of wine, merriment, and ritual madness. He is thought to be a "foreign" god, as some myths claim he came from the east of the ancient Grecian territory. He represents things of chaotic and unexpected._

You scoffed. That sounded familiar. The crumbling ruins were once a shrine to the wine god. There was still some marble tables and pedestals standing that his followers would use to celebrate in his honor. Or it could've been an excuse to get blindly drunk.

You climbed down the large steps near a surrounding forest. Ancient Greece was a cultural hub of the old world. Greece was so lucky to have all of this rich history and fascinating mythology. All of Europe was abundant of it. It would be nice to have a laid back attitude like his, even with all that had been going on. He had always been like that, so carefree. If only you could bring yourself to forget about all of the talk of crisis.

You sighed and rested your head in the grass. Maybe Greece's wish of being a cat wasn't so insane after all. Just sleeping all day…

There was a muffled cough from behind you.

"Finished with your promiscuous behavior?"

He settled beside you.

"With any Greeks I am."

He tugged a strand of your hair.

"Please don't tell me you want a nap."

You opened your eyes slowly. The blank white mask stared back. Your mouth formed a frown.

"Don't you sweat under that mask?"

He stuck out his bottom lip.

"Why does it bother you so much?"

You took in a breath. It bothered you because you didn't get to see a vital part of his face: his eyes. That was one way you could read people easily. But you couldn't tell him you wanted to see his pretty eyes.

"I'm just worried you'll overheat. You _are _wearing a heavy jacket."

"If I was hot I would just take it off."

"Then do it."

He cocked an eyebrow. You kept your face blank. That had just slipped out, you didn't mean it.

Before you could apologize, he started to slip his jacket off. Underneath was a tight black shirt, outlining all of his muscles…You rubbed your temples as your face started to heat up. He chuckled.

"I guess I'm not done with my promiscuous behavior...as long as you're here."

You glared through your fingers.

"I was concerned you were getting too hot!"

"Or that _I _was too hot?"

You groaned. He smirked and scooted closer to you, stretching out his arms. You clenched your fist. If Greece found out you were this close to Turkey, on _his _ruins…

You quickly searched to change the subject.

"Oh, Turkey, I started a television program about the history and culture of Europe. I've been caught up in so many events that I haven't been able to watch it."

"…and?"

"_And _the first special was about Turkey and the Ottoman traditions, specifically the marriage."

There was a moment of silence.

"Um, could you tell me about it?"

He shifted beside you.

"Er, well, do ya mean the actual marriage celebration or the…consummation?"

You leaned back so you could look at his face.

"What's the consummation? Is it like the proposal?"

"Um, no, it was sort of tied into the religion of the empire too. It's like a finalization of the marriage, but it's nothing like a document. Heh, it's much better than a document."

"How?"

He moved his arm, slightly brushing yours.

"I'm going to have to ask you something first…Have you ever been with someone?"

You tilted your head.

"What do you mean?"

"Ugh, like, in bed."

His head angled away from your gaze.

"Well, I've slept with people before."

His eyebrows shot up.

"You have?"

"Yes."

He stared at you in shock. Your cheeks started to burn, realizing what he meant.

"Oh, no, no! _Just _sleeping. None of _that _stuff."

He breathed in relief.

"Thank Allah."

You furrowed your brows.

"Why does that matter?"

"Um,"

He took out his apple juice and slowly took a swig, earning an irked growl from you. Turkey laughed softly and ruffled your hair.

"To consummate a marriage you must, um, I mean, any woman must-"

A ruffle from the trees interrupted him. Your head shot to the forest. Suddenly, an object flew out, straight toward you. You held out your hands.

"No, (name), don't catch it!" Turkey cried.

Too late. The object thunked into your hands. You examined it.

"An apple?"

Turkey jumped up in a defensive pose. A similarly tanned man stepped out of the forest.

"Greece!" you called excitedly.

Turkey stopped you.

"That doesn't count! She doesn't know what it means!"

"What?" you said.

Greece walked to you, a small frown on his face.

"Go away, you stupid head."

"Not this time, (name) _invited_ me."

He clenched his jaw.

"You're lying."

"Nuh-uh. Tell 'im (name)."

Both of their heads notched toward you.

"Um, uh-" you started.

Greece and Turkey. The two names together spawned images of fires, armies, and angry dancing. They fought over petty and serious things alike. Greece berated that the opposing nation was a conniving, creepy old man who would stab you in the back if he got the chance, while Turkey claimed the Grecian was a lazy brat who shirked any sort of responsibility or commitment. There was never ending spats from either of them. It was specially arranged that they sit at opposite ends at world meetings. Seemingly nothing could keep them from tearing at each other.

And then there was you, the wild card, as your bosses put it. You had met Greece early on, your relations developed leisurely, but at one point it was an inseparable attachment. Shortly after, you heard about the former empire. Your friend hated him, so you naturally despised him with the same passion. Once you actually met Turkey, you could see he was not someone you would not usually hang out with, but with his friendly smile and cheerful attitude, you just couldn't _hate _him.

You began to be sucked into this past conflict, as their fights soon centered around you, unknowing to you. When you were between them, you refused to take sides, your effect strong enough to keep them from strangling each other. However, as soon as you stepped out of the room, they were at each other's throats. You were dead set on resolving this ancient rivalry.

You stamped your foot on the ground.

"You're always competing, well, I have a challenge for you both."

They stopped poking each other.

"No fighting the entire rest of the day. I'm not going to choose one of you, and if you can't stop, I'm going to leave and not talk to either one of you the remainder of this week."

They gawked, seeming to forget about their current dispute.

"But…you wouldn't be around us at the same time anyways."

"I will if you stop your little skirmishes."

There was a heavy pause, both of them men thinking over this deal.

"Just for the rest of the day. If you manage that, I won't complain about your disagreements ever again."

Greece raised his eyebrows.

"That is a tempting offer…"

Turkey place his hands on his hips.

"Whaddya say, for a day?"

The Mediterranean nation narrowed his eyes.

"Fine, hairy creep."

"No name calling!"

"Oh man, this is gonna be _impossible_."

…

You didn't use your moped, (after many desperate pleas from Turkey) instead walking around the evening streets of Santorini. The blue roofed buildings by the seaside were beautiful, even more enjoyable with the silence between your two companions. You could get used to this.

Taking up Turkey's offer of dinner, Greece recommended a café overlooking the cliff. You breathed in the smell of the salty waves.

"It's breathtaking here, Greece," you sighed contently.

Turkey opened his mouth, but stopped himself with a grumble.

"Yeah, it's…satisfactory."

Heracles ignored him and smiled mildly at you. A heavier woman waitress greeted you, leading you to a candle-lit table. She didn't check out the two men, yet gave you an apprehensive gaze.

"What drinks will you be having tonight?" she asked in Greek.

"I'll just have water. Lemon on the side, please," you ordered in perfect fluency.

They all gaped at you, then quickly responded to the woman. She walked off with your orders.

"You speak Greek, (name)?" the native country asked.

"I brushed it off after I found out this meeting was going to be here. I was familiar with it before."

"You spoke it quite well."

Turkey huffed.

"(name)'s accent is way cuter than her speaking some dumb Greek."

You both stared blankly at him. His face fell into realization.

"Oh, um, never mind," he muttered.

The appetizer and salad came around. Still no arguing. You didn't expect them to last this long. There was the occasional snarky remark, but it remained unnoticed. A hopeful flame welled up inside you. You were so proud of them! Maybe this could impact their overall attitude to each other.

You smiled and looked up from you pita. They had even started a conversation! Could they even be…_friends_?

"Is this…_cat hair_?"

Uh oh.

"It won't kill you," Greece chided.

Turkey flicked the hair off his hand with a disgusted frown on his mouth.

"Yes it could've! I could have swallowed it, then choked, then died!"

You slumped. They were so close!

"It's _every_ damn time I come here. There's cats everywhere! Sometimes I think they're stalking me."

He scooted out of his chair.

"I have to use the restroom."

Greece got up.

"I do too."

They both stomped off. Your head fell to the table. The cause was hopeless. They would never get along.

The waitress waltzed over, peering in their direction down the corridor.

"Caught between a Turk and a Greek, eh? You have my condolences."

You sighed.

"Thanks, but they've always been like that."

She scoffed.

"Are you kidding me? They're completely taken with you. I imagine _you _are the reason causing them to fight."

"What? But-um-"

You covered your red face.

"You want my opinion? Go for the Turk, that body…oh, but the Greek's brilliant eyes…Frankly, I'd shoot for both, hah!"

She walked off, laughing. Not soon after, the two men returned to their seats. You regained your composure.

"I hope there was not any bathroom scuffles?"

Turkey grunted while Greece stared at the tablecloth. You cleared your throat.

"So…what's your favorite color?

"Green," they said at the same time, then glared.

"Isn't that nice? You have similarities! That's one step closer to becoming allies…" you quickly interjected.

There was only the sound of clinking silver wear. You twirled your glass, enjoying the view. No, not of the two men, of the coast. Not even their attitude could spoil the vista. The waitress brought out your entrée, giving you a wink. You ate the rest of your dinner in quiet.

…

You didn't mean to. Your tranquil walk had taken a turn to an uphill slope. It apparently had looked like a perfect running track.

"Let's go, Hera. You, me, race."

Turkey took off running. You outstretched an arm.

"Hey, let's think about-"

Greece was already fading out of your view. With a groan, you crossed to the other side and plopped down on the grass. You stared out to the clear blue-green water. Your cursed mind kept wandering back to the two nations. They were…attractive, you couldn't deny that. Did _they _really like you in that way? The two countries that were notorious for their romantic exploits…the thought made your heart race and goose bumps form on your arms. It couldn't be, you weren't as openly affectionate as they liked, and you were…argh, the thought was just infuriating!

You rested your chin on your knees. Actual romances with other countries was a sure stop for disaster, that was why most stayed single. Hungary was so anxious about getting you dragged into one. She had to be joking about the Valentine's Day incident. Seborga was the only one you were going to allow have a crush on you.

Feet pounding on the grass awoke you from your thoughts. Greece sprawled out beside you, panting. Your eyes didn't move from the sun setting horizon.

"You won?"

"Had to…reach you first…" he heaved.

You patted his sweaty forehead, giving him a few moments to catch his breath. Turkey must be _really _slow. He sat up, his emerald eyes reverting back to their tired glaze. His breathing matched the crashing of the waves.

"Why are you so persistent, (name)?"

You tilted your head, not expecting the random question.

"What do you mean?"

"You're dead set on improving my relations with Turkey."

You laughed.

"Someone has to keep you from ripping each other's faces off."

He blinked, then did a slow nod. His gaze followed yours to the sea.

"You're like a guardian, keeping the peace of the world."

You shrugged.

"To put it eloquently, I guess."

He scooted closer.

"In ancient Greece, any woman who dared interfere between the affairs of men was rare, because it was frowned upon in so many other places.

"But in Sparta, a woman brave enough to do so was viewed with a fiery passion; an irresistible partner."

You angled your eyes toward him. He had entered his philosophical mode. His shoulder pressed against yours.

"An inner spirit better than any aphrodisiac."

No wonder the best poets were Greek. You smiled sweetly. He nuzzled your cheek.

"I may like you better than cats…"

Your eyes widened. Greece _loved _cats. He had an obsession with cats. Cats were his life. He was saying that he-he-

You squeaked when he grabbed you to his chest. He continued to nuzzle you and started to pet behind your ears. You felt something being put on your head. Reaching your arm out of his grip, you felt two soft covered triangles attached to a band. Cat ears. He kept cat ears with him.

"_You're me kitty, (name)~"_

How had a wise fact telling turned into that statement? You sighed and stopped struggling. That was just Greece. You smiled in his chest. Not that you didn't think that was cute…

"I…I m-made it!" announced a familiar Turk.

He sprinted up the hill, clutching his side. You stiffened. Greece nipped your ear, then pulled away, his face returning to a blank slate. The opposing country staggered forward.

"Took you long enough."

"I l-let you win."

"Maybe you're just not as spunky as you used to be."

Turkey raised a shaky fist.

"You pickin' a fight with me?"

"You assume everything is a challenge."

"Nuh-uh!"

"You are doing it right now."

"No I'm not!"

You waggled a finger.

"You two are arguing."

"It's a heated discussion!" they said together.

You crossed your arms, trying to block out their voices.

They continued their "discussion", careful not to raise their tone. You sighed and rested your face in your hand. Maybe it wasn't meant to be. Without conflicts, meetings would be a lot more dull, if that was even possible. There would be a day where you would be forced to choose between the two sunny nations, so why not relish the time when they were still fighting over useless things?

"Mew?"

A furry head brushed against your wrist. You grinned and rubbed the orange cat. At least Greece's pets didn't hold a grudge against Turkey. It purred and curled up in your lap, closing its yellow eyes. The moon had come out in the sky now, giving a glow to the cliff side houses. You outstretched your body, resting your head in the grass. To be a cat…

You closed your eyes. There was another meeting tomorrow, with a whole new storm of disputes. Tonight, you were just a cat.

**EXTENDED ENDING**

Sunlight streamed through your hotel window. No weird dreams about Greek gods, thank goodness. Still probably a little early for the meeting, but you felt rested enough. Best to brief yourself over the last events after you had drifted off. You took in a long breath and slowly opened your eyes. An ivory mask met your view. You gasped and flinched backwards. Arms that were ghosting over your waist intertwined tighter.

Biting your lip hard, you rotated your head backwards. Greece's peaceful sleeping face was resting on a pillow. _Your _pillow. _Your _hotel room.

You peered into the covers. Yup, still fully clothed. But wait…you faced the man across from you. Turkey, snoring lightly. They were both here, sleeping. No arguing. You grinned triumphantly, temporarily forgetting your anger about the current situation. They had done it, they lasted a whole day! Ending up in the same bed…you were not expecting it to end _that _well.

**…**

_[1] fellow, mate, friend, comrade, ect, in French._

_CULTURAL NOTE_

_The scene with the apple; throwing an apple at someone was a way to propose in ancient Greece. If they caught it, you're getting married! If they missed it, maybe next time. If it hit them in the face…uh oh._


	5. Ending Alliances

_I had a Denmark/Norway chapter, but after reading over it, I didn't like it, so I had to skip them. Oh well, I'll save it for another story._

**…**

The melodic burst of trumpets sounded, an aerial view of luscious green terrain, then finally, the deep male voice.

"_Welcome to Europe, a continent rich in history, culture, and art. In this episode, we'll explore the vital regions of the once great empire, Prussia. Here you see-"_

_RIING!_

The sudden shriek made you jump. You gritted your teeth and turned up the volume. Not today. You were not going to miss another minute of History and Culture of Europe. Even if the entire continent of South America was declaring war on you, you weren't going to pause the show.

You tuned out the five minute phone ringings until there was only the audio of your TV. Ah, peace at last. You plopped your feet up on the coffee table, letting your eyes rest on the regions of Prussia.

It was a perfect day. Until the phone, there wasn't any interruptions keeping you from your program. The weather was squelchy, the perfect conditions to spend a relaxing day inside. You could stay like this forever…

_Bzzzt!_

Your pocket buzzed intensely. You squinted at the TV. Nothing else was going to avert your attention. You had waited too long.

Your open laptop dinged, signaling an email. You pushed the volume up another notch. Nothing was going on, it was a serene afternoon. Only your program was worthy of your thoughts.

As if sensing you were at the end of your rope, all possible communication devices sprang to life. The various buzzes and dings blocked out any concentration. You punched the pause button, then pulled out your cellphone, resisting crushing it to dust.

"_What _is so important that you very rudely interrupt me from-"

"(name)."

You held your breath. The recognition dripped into your brain, making all of the blood fall from your face.

"Oh, boss! I'm sorry, I am just, um, occupied with something. I've been getting inane calls all week and-"

"Yes, yes, alright. I am calling for a purpose. Turn to Channel Four."

You furrowed your brows.

"Um, I can't…"

"You must. Now."

The tone of their voice told you further objections would be useless. You sighed, memorized where you were on History and Culture of Europe, then turned to the main source. Channel Four was playing the world news. Currently, they were broadcasting a daring kitten rescue in Japan. You rubbed your forehead.

"Boss, I really don't-"

"Just wait, they're going to play it."

You slumped back into the couch, watching a clip of a small cat over and over. Is this what your boss _had _to talk to you about? Finally, the reporter switched to a different story, after going "aww" for the fortieth time. They cleared their throat.

"In other events around the world, there has been a surprising amount of talk of alliances in Europe."

You cocked an eyebrow. This was interesting.

"The first of the European countries to file for a bond was Switzerland. This shocked many, especially the country's neighbors, as the nation has not offered any partnerships in decades. The Swiss Federal Council has not yet released the cause for the sudden alliance."

You bit your lip. Switzerland had mentioned an alliance briefly to you, but you didn't think he'd actually follow through with it. The reporter had left out the other end of the alliance though. Maybe it wasn't you. Your boss remained mute on the other end. You reverted back to the TV.

"Another announcement certainly shook the public this week. David Cameron, prime minister of the U.K., proclaimed that he and Parliament were in the process of approving another alliance. From what he and other member of government said, it appears that the alliance was in positive favor."

England was another country you had visited. There was a suspicious pattern going, but the reporter left out the receiver of these alliances. They continued.

"Another prominent event has been happening between Italy, Denmark, and Norway's diplomats. They have been seen exchanging harsh chats, which is unusual for the mellow behaved officials. It is uncertain what could've cause these rough relations, but it has been spilled that the three nations have had their sights set on similar alliances."

You stared blankly. Now you were almost certain this revolved around you, but nothing of your country had been mentioned. As you were about to question your boss, the reporter continued.

"Lastly, and probably the most appalling, a meeting between Greece and Turkey was scheduled yesterday. There was an odd time of peace between the two countries, and that seemed to last into the meeting. The exiting diplomats said very little, except that they had come to an agreement about a different country.

"As you may have noticed, I have been leaving out the opposite end of these alliances. That is because they are all centered around the same nation;"

You gasped. Your name was uttered from the reporter's lips, confirming all of your beliefs. They looked intently into the camera.

"We are waiting to hear more on these stories. For now, nothing is confirmed as we have heard nothing from the attention grabbing country's leader."

You shut off the TV, leaning into your cellphone.

"Boss, is this true? Have all of these countries contacted you?"

There was muffled shuffling from the other line.

"Why do you sound so surprised? Wasn't this your doing?"

"No!" you exclaimed.

"Once everyone finds out they had the same intentions toward me, they'll be-be…_war_!"

You got up and paced, clutching the phone tightly. Your boss sighed deeply.

"Well, It sounds like we can't keep a neutral stance anymore."

You rested your head against the wall, closing your eyes.

"I'm going to have to choose one person, and then hurt everyone else. There's no easy way out of this."

"Or you could choose no one and try to keep these ever going hostilities."

You glanced back over to the DvD case of History and Culture of Europe. In front of you there was the variety of the continent to choose from. It was clear to you now, their intentions. Your boss was obviously delighted about all the positive light shed on your country. You had a feeling more like being a prize.

It wasn't like you didn't return their feelings, but there were nine men who liked you. Nine! They were all so different, they couldn't be compared in just one way. You didn't have a lot of time to think about this, and this was one of this biggest decisions you'd ever have to make! Which country did you like? No, which country were you in _love _with?

You took a deep breath.

"No, I have to choose one. For now…try to delay the alliances. Make up excuses, say we're not in the position now, whatever. I need time to think about this, before the whirlwind meetings next month."

There was a thoughtful pause. You could hear your boss tidying papers.

"Fine, (name). I will do what I can, but I advise you, there isn't a lot of time to make your decision. Try to…keep our country and safety in mind. These are all formidable choices. Whoever you pick, I trust your judgment."

You raised your eyebrows.

"Wow boss, I-I-"

"Yes, yes, one time sympathy only. Maybe this "freedom" you talk about isn't such a bad idea, if you can wheedle your way into these partnerships. Talk to you later, (name)."

The other line beeped. You groaned and rubbed your forehead. This month was going to be a mess. All the ranting calls you'd be getting…you'd never get to finish History and Culture of Europe! How were you going to find out about your future ally?

**…**

_There it is! I'm sort of continuing this series, but with stand alones with a single character. You actually get to...*dramatic pause* hook up with them in end! One of those should be out soon, if I don't get too distracted by the internet. Thanks for reading!_


End file.
